


from the dining table

by staellula



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Exes to Lovers, F/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:48:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29910975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staellula/pseuds/staellula
Summary: four years ago, diego hargreeves entered your life. you thought he would stay, but just like that, four years ago he left - and now that he’s back, you don’t know what to do with yourself.
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	from the dining table

“Remind me again why couldn’t Dave come with you?”

Klaus waved you off with one hand while taking a sip from his own cocktail with the other. “Because we’re not official yet and I don’t want to scare him away with my family of lunatics.”

Watching the party unfold in front of you as you leaned on one of the many columns in the spacious living room, a soft jazz tune playing in the background while people you didn’t know mingled over whatever it was that rich people were interested in, you thought of the many other things you could be doing on your Friday night instead of that.

You could be finishing that canvas you started this morning. You could be doing your laundry. You could be catching up on some much needed sleep. You could be getting shitfaced at some random frat party, an idea which you were sure Klaus would on board with.

At the moment, though, your best friend was making you stay at one of his famous father’s events because he himself had nothing better to do either. Your dress was already making you uncomfortable, and your shoes weren’t fairing much better - all you wanted was your couch.

"The only lunatic here is your dad." You counter. Klaus frantically signed you to shut up, but you went on. "What? The old man already doesn't like me anyway."

"He doesn't even like his own children. You're not special." He deadpanned.

Sighing, you continue. “What I mean to say is that, aside from your dear old dad, they’re not that bad at first sight. The worst comes after the second, and after that you're already in too deep to give up.”

“Well, I’ll trust you, then. You speak from experience.”

The slap on his shoulder was well deserved. “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say this.”

“The truth is the truth, my darling.”

“Is he bothering you too much?” A voice interjected from your other side. Your second favorite Hargreeves, Ben, and the most sensible of the bunch, with his hands buried inside his pants’ pockets. “Because I can see from your face that this isn’t going well.”

“When is he not bothering someone?” You provoked. “You should know that by now, Benny.”

“You know what? Screw you, guys.” Klaus exclaimed, pointing at the both of you. “And you…”

Anytime those two went on a seemingly infinite string of insulting each other with the most ridiculous arguments, you dozed off. No offense to either, you loved them with your whole heart, but Klaus and Ben were often worse than preschool children when it came to each other.

With a wave, you let them know you were going for a smoke, and left before they dragged you into another hour-long argument that would lead nowhere.

Outside, it poured.

Heavy rain fell in a thin veil of water, twinkling under the yellow streetlights. The cold wind made your face tingle as you stood under the Hargreeves’ entryway, sheltered from the storm. The heat of the cigarette you brought to your mouth, in a slow, almost lazy drawl, helped to warm from the inside out.

Pulling your coat closer to your body, you watched the steady rainfall. The sound of water hitting the rooftops and the concrete was soothing, way better than the obnoxious high society chatter on the inside.

You knew that mansion like the palm of your hand. It would be easy to go upstairs and hide in one of the bedrooms, or sneak into the kitchen and stay there until you felt like it, but every corner and crevice of the house brought you a memory of a time you’d rather forget about.

The only reason you kept coming back was because you didn’t know how to say no to Klaus. He’d ask you to come as moral support whenever his dad called for him to show, and you also knew Ben wouldn’t mind your presence - so you did, every time, even if that meant staying under the scrutinizing space of your ex-boyfriend’s childhood home for a couple of hours.

As Jaime Lannister would say, _the things we do for love_. Klaus was your favorite person in the world, and it wasn’t his fault that yours and his brother’s lives went their separate ways. You could be mature enough to suck it up and let it be.

Until you saw a familiar, 1984 Buick Riviera turn the corner, and park on the other side of the street.

For you, it happened in slow motion. Diego Hargreeves, in the flesh, after almost four years - one thousand and sixty days, thirty five thousand and forty hours, roughly two million minutes - of leaving you without a proper goodbye and fucking off to Los Angeles.

Same old car, same old, battered leather jacket. You could see from afar that his beard was thicker, as well as the rest of his body, as he hopped off the driver’s seat and walked in your direction under the pouring rain, without an umbrella. You were sure he couldn’t see you, otherwise you knew he wouldn’t dare to come with such an ease on his step.

Your fingers turn into fists, just as tight as your heart, clenched within your chest. It’s hard to look away from him, in the same way that it’s hard to turn eyes away from an impending car crash, or some other type of announced tragedy - you know how it ends, but you still want to see. You can’t go back inside, you can’t run off to your house, you’re stuck in place, waiting for the inevitable.

A snarl took over your expression, and you braced yourself for the worst.

The worst, it turned out, was a soaking wet Diego, standing in front of you without an ounce of remorse, and smiling.

“If I knew you would be my welcome committee, I would have been here a lot earlier.”


End file.
